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EULOGIUM 


ON 


C^PT. JAMES LAWREMCE AMD LIEUT, A. C. LUDLOW. 

DELIVERED 


AT THE REQUEST 


OP THE 


and dLod^o 0^ Sl)cici 


amare. 


BY 

BHOTHEa G. READ, Jun*r. Esq. S. W. of St. John’s Lodge, No. 2. 

ti_ 


WILMIMGTOM: 
PRINTED BY R. PORTER. 



OF Co,.; 


Sf A, 




1813. 







t 340 

\ 

At an adjourned communication of theGrand Lodge of Delaware^ 
holden at the Toivn-Hall in the Borough of Wilmington, Septem¬ 
ber loth, A. L, 5813 

The Grand Lodge of Delaware, entertaining a high sense of the 
exalted merits of the naval heroes Captain James Lawrence, 
and Lieutenant Augustus C. Ludlow ; who fell nobly fighting 
in their country’s cause;— Resolved, as a tribute of unfeigned res¬ 
pect to their memories to manifest in solemn form, and according 
to ancient usage, the deep sorrow inspired by the mournful occur¬ 
rence, that a Eulogium be delivered by Brother George 
Read, Junior, Esquire, member of the Grand Lodge, and Senior 
Warden of St. John’s Lodge, No. 2 , commemorative of the 
virtue, gallantry and devotion to their country, displayed by those 
brave men; and that a procession shall be formed by this Grand 
J.iodge, and the subordinate Lodges under its jurisdiction, with 
the Lodges at Cantwell’s-Bridge, Elktoii, and Chester;—Brother 
Mason’s who do not belong to Lodges in this State, officers of the 
Navy and Army of the United States, the Militia corps in this 
State and citizens shall be invited to join, and attend the delivery 
of the Eulogium. 

By order of the Grand Lodge, 

Attest, George Read, Grand Master, p. t. 

John Nielson, Grand Secretary. 


At an adjourned communication of the Grand Lodge of Dela¬ 
ware, holden at the Town-hall of the Borough of Wilmington, 
September 25th, A. L. 5813 ;— 

Resolved, That the Grand Lodge, hereby render to Brother 
George Read, Junior, Esq. the tribute of their thanks, for the 
eloquent and excellent Eulogy on Captain James Lawrence, and 
Lieutenant Augustus C. Ludlow, delivered by him before the 
Grand Lodge this day. And pursuant to a resolution adopted on 
the 10th instant, the committee of arrangement, are hereby re¬ 
quested to cause it to be published, from a Copy presented by Bro¬ 
ther G. Read, Jun’r. to the Grand Lodge. 

Attest. G. Read, Grand Master, p. t. 

John Niels'on, Grand Secretary, 


« 


5 





ON 


SATURDAY THE 25th OF SEPTEMBER, 1813. 


The elevated character which the American Navy has attain ¬ 
ed by the splendid achievements of its officers and seamen, who have 
encircled it with imperishable wreaths of honour and renown, 
impelled the Grand Lodge of Delaware^ participating in the gene¬ 
ral feelings of pride and exultation that pervade the great communi¬ 
ty of the United States, to resolve that aEulogium commemorative 
of the virtue, gallantry and devotion in their country’s cause, of the 
much lamented naval heroes, the late Captain James Lawrence 
and Augustus C. Ludlow, should be delivered on the 25th of this 
instant, at the Presbyterian Church in Wilmington, by Brother 
George Read, Jun’r. Esq. Senior Warden, of St. John’s Lodge, 
No. 2. And that a Grand Masonic Procession should be formed 
to move from the Hall of the Grand Lodge, which Commodore 
Angus of the Delaware squadron, with his officers and seamen, 
together with the military and citizens, should be invited to join: 
—Accordingly on this morning, the Grand Lodge assembled, and 
a procession was formed, and moved to the Church in the follow¬ 
ing order.— 

Two Tylers with drawn swords. 

Two Stewards with wands in mourning. 

Book of Constitutions, 

borne by the oldest Master of the Senior Lodge, sup¬ 
ported by two Pastmasters. 

Grand Master, Grand Senior and Junior Wardens, bearing 
their Columns. 

Grand Secretary with his scroll, and Grand Treasurer with 
his staff. 

Grand Chaplain with a Prayer-Book, and Orator. 

Three Pastmasters bearing three lights extinguished. 

Past Grand officers of the Grand Lodge, two and two. 

Grand Deacons with wands in mourning. 


IV. 


Subordinate Lodges, according to seniority, in the following 
order.— 

Master bearing the Warrant of his Lodge. 

Senior and Junior Wardens bearing their Columns. 
Treasurer and Secretary. 

Pastmasters two and two. 

Master Masons two and two. 

Fellow Crafts two and two. 

Entered Apprentices, do. do. 

Two Tylers with drawn swords. 

Deacons with wands in mourning. 

Band of Music. 

Commodore Angus. 

Officers of the Navy two and two. 

Seamen two and two. 

Military in the following order, in files arms reversed. 

Field officers according to rank. 

Cavalry. 

Artillery. 

Infantry. 

Citizens two and tw'o. 

Grand Marshal and three assistants on horseback on the right and 
left of the line of march. 

The procession moved from the Town-hall up Market-street to 
Hanover-street, up Hannover-street to Kennet road, thence along 
that road to Market-street, down Market-street to Water-streety, 
down Water-street to King-street, up King-street to Queen-street, 
thence along that street to the Presbyterian Church. On arriving 
at the church, the Tylers and Deacons formed an arch at the east 
door, under which the Procession passed and entered the church, 
where after a prayer by the Grand Chaplain, and a selected Hymn 
sung by the choristers under direction of Mr. Azariah Fobes, ac¬ 
companied by a band of Music belonging to the Artillery Company 
of Wilmington, an Eulogy was delivered by Brother George 
Read, Junior, Esq. distinguished alike by the splendour of elo¬ 
quence—cliasteness and purity of style, and appropriate and pa¬ 
thetic sentiments, to a numerous and brilliant audience. Commo- 


V. 


dore Angus, his officers and seamen, formed a most interesting 
part of the auditory. Their manly bosoms seemed to swell res¬ 
ponsive to the glowing sentiments of the Orator, called forth by the 
glorious achievements of our naval heroes. 

The procession w as, after the conclusion of the ceremonies, re¬ 
sumed, and returned in the same order to the hall of the Grand 
Lodge. The most perfect order prevailed, the arrangements were 
« the most suitable to the occasion, and the Masonic and Military 
Corps were more numerous in their attendance than is recollected 
on any former occasion. They made a fine display, and did ho¬ 
nour to the patriotic spirit which animated the Grand Lodge in 
paying this tribute of respect to the manes of their departed coun¬ 
trymen and most worthy Brothers. 

By order of the Grand Lodge of Delaivare, 

Attest. John Nielson, Grand Secretary. 

September 25th, d, L, 5813. 





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EULOGIUM, &c. 


THE Gratitude of the Nation, is justly 
due to those of her Citizens, whom their virtue and their 
valour have distinguished. In all ages, and in all countries, 
we observe the celebration of national epochs, and the com¬ 
memoration of illustrious men. The Memory, and the 
Deeds of the Hero, have survived the lapse of time in the 
pages of the historian, and his Fame has been consecrated 
to immortality in the deathless verse of the poet. The glow¬ 
ing canvass and the breathing marble—the storied column, 
and the animated bust—^the triumphal arch and the honour¬ 
ed urn—have perpetuated his actions, and shed the rays of 
glory around his career. Such have been more peculiarly 
the rewards of that active patriotism, which devotes its life to 
deeds of daring and of arms—which sacrificing all the en¬ 
dearing ties of private life, and all the calm safety of seclu¬ 
sion, seeks amid the perils of war, the trophies of victory. 

The victorious chief who has passed through in safety 
the dangers of Battle, can look back with delighted satis¬ 
faction on the perils he has encountered, and the conquests 
his prowess has achieved ; he reposes, after all his privations 
and sacrifices, in the bosom of his grateful and applauding 
country, and reaps in their admiration the rich reward of 
his valour. A different lot often awaits the good and the 
brave. Superior conduct nor super-human bravery, will 
always command success; and the frail tenure of human 
life is common to the coward and the bold. It is when brave 
men fall victims to accident, that they particularly excite 
our sympathetic regret. It is then they become the more 
express objects of our devoted attachments. When he is 
lost to us forever, we appreciate the high value, of what we 



possessed, and in the tender recollection of his worth, and 
of liis endearing qualities, wc feel the full extent of his loss, 
whom all our vain regrets cannot restore. The living Hero, 
encircled as he is, by the glory of his exploits, and exalted 
by the imposing circumstance of his success, commands our 
admiration—but the Tribute is sometimes unwillingly, often 
coldly paid. Envy sickens at the praises, and detraction, 
preys upon the laurels of a contemporary. But, when the 
silent tomb has hidden him from our sight*—when the gloom 
of death, buries his faults in oblivion—a thousand tender 
recollections, rush upon the memory, and admiration warms 
into love. When alive, revered and admired*—when dead, 
entombed in our hearts and affections. 

If these sympathies and feelings, attend him to the tomb, 
who has fallen full of years and of glory—whose sun has 
set in serene splendour after the unclouded course of a sum¬ 
mer’s day, what expressions of sorrow does our feeble lan¬ 
guage afford, when we behold the youthful Hero, full of 
life, and energy, and hope—exulting in a Nation’s blessings 
—in the very morning of life, and in the opening of his tri¬ 
umphant career—sink at once into the darkness of Death 
—a death overshadowed by the gloom of disaster and defeat! 
Would to Heaven! that such scenes existed but in fancy, 
forming combinations of more than human misery ! Would 
to Heaven, that the closing hours of those short lives which 
were passed in the service of our country, devoted to the as¬ 
sertion of her rights, and to the triumphs of her arms, did 
not call forth the effusions of our sorrow—did not this day 
assemble us, to weep over the memories of Lawrence and 
of Ludlow. 

There are some features in the characters of Captain 
Lawrence and of Lieutenant Ludlow so remarkably similar, 
as to render them the proper subjects of the same eulogy. 
Devoted ardently to the same mode of life, characterized 
alike by the desire of naval renown, amiable^ and enlight- 


ened, in their manners, and ideas, bold, daring, and daunt¬ 
less in combat, mild, polished, and unassuming in social life, 
in the very bud and opening of existence, full of all those 
fond hopes, and flattering expectations which fancy so often 
promises to fulfil, and which reality so seldom confirms, in 
the same conflict they fought, in the same conflict they fell, 
—one common tomb closed over their mortal remains, and 
their memories received at tlie hands of the enemy similar 
honors. Among us the eulogies of gratitude have embalm¬ 
ed their names with its tears, and Lawrence and Ludlow 
will meet in the same page of some future liistorian, who 
records the actions of our- sages and warriors.—United too 
by those mystick ties, which by the institutions of Masonry 
have pervaded the world, and by their vivifying influence 
drawn the most distant nations into one grand union of har¬ 
mony and love, our Brothers have ascended together to the 
Grand Lodge above, ** eternal in the Heavens.’’ We liave 
reason to deplore an event, which has robbed our society of 
such distinguished ornaments. Appearing above our hori¬ 
zon, in their brief career of glory they dazzled our eyes, 
like the brilliant corruscations of the momentary meteor, 
and then sunk into sudden night. But, no! I do wrong to 
their memories, and our gratitude! when time has dimi¬ 
nished the poignancy of our grief, their fame, like the mel¬ 
low tints of evening after the sun has set, shall still live in 
the softened recollection of their merits, and our loss! 

At the early age of sixteen. Captain Lawrence entered 
the Navy of the United States. His eager aspirations after 
distinction prevented his pursuit of a profession which hold¬ 
ing its even way amid the seclusion of private life, denies, 
except to a few favoured votaries, that brilliancy of charac¬ 
ter so attractive to the youthful mind. The ardent imagi¬ 
nation of Lawrence beheld in the dangers of the ocean, and 
the chances of Battle, the trophies of victory and renown. 
And amply did subseque^nt events justify his fondest wishes 
and most sanguine expectations. In that small but gallant 

B 


( 10 ) 

Fleet, 'which spread the terror of our arms, over the bura- 
ing sands of the Torrid Zone, and made the barbarians of 
Africa tremble at the prowess of a Nation of whose exis¬ 
tence they were almost entirely ignorant, Lawrence parti¬ 
cularly distinguished himself. In the attempt to destroy 
the Frigate Philadelphia, moored under the batteries of Tri¬ 
poli, an enterprize as hazardous in the execution, as it was 
gloriously successful in its issue,—He partook with Decatur 
in the honour of an exploit which shed so much lustre on 
the American name. To the shores of the mediterranean, 
and to a war with a horde of piratical barbarians, we owe 
much of that courage and discipline which has so eminent¬ 
ly distinguished our naval commanders. Here that lofty 
spirit yet in its infancy but destined hereafter to triumph 
in repeated contests over the boasted mistress of the ocean, 
first imped its eagle flight. 

At the period when the accumulated aggressions and proud 
pretensions of England involved us in the existing war, the 
merits of Captain Lawrence had raised him to the command 
of a Sloop of War. He had now an opportunity of develop¬ 
ing to the eye of the publick those qualities for which he 
was afterwards so well known. The nation to which we had 
thrown the gauntlet of defiance, was the undisputed mistress 
of the seas. Her thousand Ships of War,” in successive 
and decisive encounters had defeated and driven from the 
ocean, the Fleets of every Maritime Power of the Old 
World. So high had her naval reputation risen by repeat¬ 
ed triumphs, that no deed of daring was esteemed beyond 
the power of British seamen. In every region of the path¬ 
less deep, victory still waved on the Red Cross Banner; and 
her poets sung in exulting numbers, the meteor flag which 
had braved a thousand years, the battle and the breeze.” 

Our pretensions were as modest as they were moderate. 
Our existence was fresh—unstained by the crimes and cor¬ 
ruption which national power so often engenders, we were 


( 11 ) 

unable to boast, any of that ancient renown, which lives in 
the annals, of National pride. True it was, at no remote 
period, our Fathers had achieved the triumph of our IndC' 
pendence—a triumph unequalled for its dangers and success* 
But tliis >vas only the corner-stone of our national charac- 
*ter, the superstructure yet remained to be reared. All that 
a mild and equitable government at home, a just and tem¬ 
perate deportment abroad could produce, w as accomplished. 
At the crisis, we are now contemplating, it became neces¬ 
sary to show the deluded politicians of Europe, that a noble 
daring, and bold exploits in w ar are not inconsistent with a 
sincere and ardent love of peace. 

Lawrence was one of the band of Heroes to whose care 
was committed the deposit of our national honour. And 
nobly did he discharge the sacred trust, by sacriticing his 
life in its defence. W hen hostilities lirst commenced we lind 
him, seeking an encounter w ith an enemy’s ship of acknow¬ 
ledged superiority of force, which the prudence of his op¬ 
ponent induced him ingloriously to decline. This Avas itis 
true a victory, Avithout a contest, but nevertheless highly 
important as an indication of the rapid rise of our naval re¬ 
putation even in tlie estimation of the enemy. It was not 
long however, before the chances of Avar gave Iiawrence an 
opportunity of signalizing himself, of which no prudence or 
circumspection of his adversary could deprive him. The 
vessel he encountered Avas at least of equal force; yet the 
conflict Avas as brief in its duration, as it Avas decisive in its 
event. In a few shoi*t minutes from its commencement, the 
signal of surrender Avas accompanied by signs of distress. 
The enemy’s vessel Avas sinking—and hurrying to a Avatery 
grave, the conquered, the dying, and the dead. Moulded to 
the impressions of humanity, by the precept and example, 
of his gallant commander, the American sailor, forgot all 
enmity in the calls of distress, and nobly hazarded his own 
life, to save the remnant of the conquered, which had es¬ 
caped the fury of Battle. This Avas a scene, over Avhich, 


( 12 ) 

the best feelings of our nature !)end, with delightful sym¬ 
pathy. This was a striking ])ractieal example of the prin¬ 
ciples of the ancient and respectable institution of Masonry, 
Avhich unite even contending nations, in the bonds of Uni¬ 
versal Philanthrophy. 

Lawrence was now in the splendour of his fame. Uis 
morning of life, was brilliant indeed. He was hailed by the 
united plaudits of his countrymen, the clamorous acclama¬ 
tions of the multitude, and the refined homage of the few. 
Private esteem, and publick admiration, pursued his course, 
and all tlie honours, and rewards, which were consistent 
with the spirit of our republican institutions, were gene¬ 
rously bestowed. Publick opinion took its character, from 
the nature of the exploits, which had excited it, and was 
as warm in the acknowledgment of its gratitude, as the 
achievments of its favourite, w ere vivid, and imposing. 

The appointment of Captain Lawrence, to the Frigate 
Chesapeake, doubtless intended as a compliment to his ac¬ 
knowledged merits, was the origin of the reverses of his 
fortune, and the immediate cause of his fate. Disgrace, 
and dishonour, had not yet been effaced from her flag; her 
crew> but just recruited, were yet undisciplined, and wholly 
unknown to their new commander. The Chesapeake, was 
besides, one of the worst vessels of her class. In this situ¬ 
ation, the British Frigate Shannon, appeared off the har¬ 
bour of Boston, ready at all points, superior in size, with a 
chosen crew, prepared for the combat, under the eye, and 
the discipMne of one of the most accomplished officers, of 
the British navy. A verbal challenge w as conveyed to Cap¬ 
tain Lawrence, to try his prowess in Battle. No moment 
of hesitation, ensued in the soul of ardent, and impetuous 
valour, a nobler adversary never rushed to combat, more 
worthy of his country’s fame, a more safe depositary of his 
country’s honour. Victory was in the hands of Providence, 
but his glory depended not on it—it was imperishable. 


( 13 ) 

From the lofty eminences, which overlooked the sea, the 
anxious eyes of thousands of our countrymen, saw our gal¬ 
lant frigate commence the Battle*^the prayers of thousands 
in silence and suspense entretted for her success;—a dark 
rolling cloud hides them from our view; commiserating des¬ 
tiny, throws the veil over a scene, too distressing, for the 
Patriot to contemplate. 

We all remember the anxious solicitude, with which, the 
issue of the Rattle was awaited—we all remember, the burst 
of feeling, which accompanied a knowledge of the event. 
The loss of the Frigate, was not the cause of our sorrow; 
no! it was a spontaneous tribute, to tlie brave, the fearless, 
the accomplished Lawrence! 

Early in the conflict which had ensued. Captain Law¬ 
rence received a severe wound; supporting himself, by the 
companion way, near which he stood, he still continued to 
direct the manoeuvres of his vessel with his usual prompti¬ 
tude and coolness; his intrepid spirit refusing to submit to 
his corporal sufferings. The same destructive fire, made 
great havoc among the other officers, of whom, the lament¬ 
ed Ludlow was wounded. In consequence of the death of 
the sailing master, the Chesapeake unfortunately fell in 
contact with the enemy, so as to lie exposed to her raking 
Are, without being able to return it. The battle now raged 
in its most savage form, it was the struggle of valour, 
against overpowering numbers and discipline. At this mo¬ 
ment when the issue of the contest hung upon the life of 
Lawrence, upon Lawrence, wounded, bleeding, unable to 
suppoi't himself,—but dauntless, undismayed, and full of 
patriotick fire, the shaft of death had winged its disastrous 
flight, destined to terminate the life of Lawrence, and the 
issue of the battle. Borne from the deck, fainting, and 
in the agonies of dissolution, his magnanimous spirit dicta¬ 
ted his last orders, << Don’t give up t/uj Ship The cessa¬ 
tion of the firing, soon after announced to his struggling 


( 14 ) 

soul, the fatal termination of the combat. One more burst 
of agonized feeling expressed itself, in the request, which 
he made to those who were around him, to go upon deck, 
and repeat his orders,—Ilofi’t give up the shipLet 
the flag wave while I live !” Vain were his wishes, impo¬ 
tent his commands ! The enemy had triumphed, and death 
had secured for his prey, all that remained of the delight, 
and ornament of his country! Then sunk the lofty spirit 
of the brave in battle. Gloom and despondency oversha¬ 
dowed, and enveloped that mind, once, the genial habita¬ 
tion of generous valour, and of the mildest virtue. The 
prospects of life had closed, before the hour of dissolution 
had arrived, and in silence, and in sorrow, he awaited its 
approach. At his last hour, no sigh of afiection soothed 
his afilicted spirit, no silent prayer, no cheering sympathy 
shed sweet consolations around his departing soul! No 
friendly hand was near to smooth his pillow,—^no gentle 
accents to assuage his anguish,—no tongue of hope, to 
paint to him, his coming glory, to tell him of a Nation’s 
love, a Nation’s tears, and a Nation’s gratitude I 

About the same time, expired our lamented Brother, the 
gallant Ludlow. In the bloom of youth, just ripened into 
manhood, in the morning of life, when the vivid fancy 
paints the growing day in all the varying colours of the 
rainbow,—covered with wounds, but none of them mortal, 
Ludlow might have been spared, to fill in our affections 
and our hopes, the place of Lawrence, had not a random 
stroke, after the contest was over, robbed him of life, and 
ended at once, all the fair prospects which it opened to his 
views. 

Such was the melancholy fate of Lawrence and of Lud¬ 
low ! “ The beauty of Israel is slain,—How are the mighty 
fallen in the midst of Battle, and tlie weapons of war pe¬ 
rished ;—^They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and 
in their deaths they were not divided !” 


( 15 ) 

If ever our sympathy is excited by a want of success, it 
must yield its willing tribute to their memories, whose loss, 
we are this day assembled to deplore. Captain Lawrence, 
zealously alive to the unsullied honour, and the late acquir¬ 
ed naval character of his country,—jealous too, as he just¬ 
ly was, of a soldier’s fame, so sensible to the whisper's of 
detraction,—could not decline the offered battle. lie might 
be successful;—nobly to dare, is to deserve victory, and in 
such a contest of inequality, defeat could never be disgrace. 
To have yielded to the frigid dictates of prudence, was lit¬ 
tle suited to the opinion entertained of liim, by his country¬ 
men, and would doubtless, have subjected his name to the 
captious sneers of envy and malignity. It will, besides, 
occur to your recollection, that Lawrence had himself of¬ 
fered the single combat, to an enemy, which was inglori- 
ously declined. He could not do an act, Avhich might pos¬ 
sibly receive, from a spirit of misrepresentation, a similar 
construction. Therefore, with a raw and undisciplined 
crew, ignorant of him, and to him unknown ; in a frigate, 
inferior to the enemy, and the worst in our navy, a vessel 
which naval and irresistible prejudice, had bi'anded among 
sailors, as disgraced, and ill omened,—He sought the prof¬ 
fered battle; yet, under these disadvantages, great, as they 
undoubtedly were, we hesitate not to believe, that the ene¬ 
my owed his success to subsequent accidents, over which 
there existed no human controul, and against which, no 
human foresight could provide. Until these accidents oc¬ 
curred, the ill-fated Chesapeake, inferior as she was iu all 
respects, but in the native valour of her hardy crew, had 
decidedly the advantage. What could be expected, when 
almost every officer wounded at the very onset, our sliip 
accidentally entangled with the enemy,, so as to expose her 
to a raking fire, which she could not return, the dying 
Lawrence, was borne bleeding from the deck, at the deci¬ 
sive moment of boarding. Could he, unhurt amid the bat¬ 
tle, have remained to head his crew, to animate them by 
his example, and to direct and concentrate the efforts of their 


( 16 ) 

courage,—but we forbear to heighten our regret for what 
has happened, by the fond imagination of what might have 
been the happier event, and bow in afflicted submission, to 
the dispensations of Heaven ! 

In the short and brilliant career of Lawrence, whose bra¬ 
very denied to him a longer duration of life, we have seen 
an unusual display of those great qualities, and virtues, 
which masonry inculcates and admires. An ardent desire 
of fame, the ambition of noble minds, particularly charac¬ 
terized him, and imparted elevation and dignity, to his con¬ 
duct. Out of this arose, and mingled itself with it, a sin¬ 
cere and active Patriotism, and a generous emulation of 
laudable deeds. The philanthropie tenets of masonry, 
were very conspicuous in his benevolence towards his van¬ 
quished foes, his magnanimous conduct, in relation to the 
enemy, and in his bland deportment, and endearing suavity 
of manners,—the production of which, are objects, of so 
high interest to our institution. Doubtless, when the veil 
had been drawn aside, which shrouds our mysteries, from 
the eye of the prophane, he had imbibed those principles, 
which distinguished his life. He there caught that high 
and independent spirit, which from an unclouded view of 
the real relations of things, taught him to despise and avoid 
the petty artifices of common life. He there learned to for¬ 
give and forget tlie intolerance of party and of sect, and 
act as becomes a member of that ancient craft, which re¬ 
cognizes no enquiry into the religious or politieal creed of 
the unhappy and distressed,—whose language is as univer¬ 
sal as the requests, and whose charity, is as extensive as the 
wants of the wretched ! Of such a brother, our Order may 
indeed be proud, nor while it holds up for the admiration 
and example of the initiated, the benevolence, the patriot¬ 
ism, the philanthropy of Lawrence, will it forget a pass¬ 
ing tribute to his memory, who was prevented, by a pre¬ 
mature fate, from emulating the exalted model, under 
whose banners he fell! 


( 17 ) 

There are sorrows too inviolable for the tear of pity or 
the sigh of sympathy—feelings too poignantly acute, to 
hear of consolation, or listen to comfort. If captain Law¬ 
rence be endeared to his countrymen,—even to those to 
whom personally unknown,—if he lived admired, and fell 
beloved and lamented,—^if his character was so eminently 
calculated to win the heart, and seize upon the affections, 
what must have been her rapturous attachment, who united 
in herself the most endearing claims upon the affections of 
such a man;—^The partner of his bosom, the Mother of his 
children! Fancy recoils from the painful task of depicting 
her feelings, when the heart-rending tidings were announ¬ 
ced, that she was a widow, and her children were orphans ! 
Time alone, can soften the acuteness of unavailing grief, 
and when memory can dwell upon scenes of past happiness, 
which like the dreams of youtli, are fled forever, the wi¬ 
dowed relict of the Hero, will experience delighted conso¬ 
lation, in the sympathy of the nation, and in the tributes 
of grateful remembrance! 

But does no bright beam of consolation break through 
the cloud of sorrow, in which the loss we have experienced 
envelopes us? Is it our lot, to mourn without hope?—Or 
has Providence mingled in the cup of bitterness, some drops 
of rich and real comfort ?—Let the exulting spirits of those, 
who feel, with our brave countrymen in arms, answer the 
enquiry. If any death be enviable, it is when it comes to 
the Hero fighting in the cause of his country,—If any death 
f be hallowed, it is that of the brave, sinking to rest, cover¬ 
ed with the wishes, the honors, the blessings of his coun¬ 
try. Whose bosom does not swell with unspeakable emo¬ 
tion,—^whose heart does not warm into indescribable admi¬ 
ration, when he hears the names of Woolfe and of Montgo¬ 
mery,—of Lawrence and of Pike,—of Ludlow and of Bur¬ 
rows,—of Burrows, for whom once more we wreath the 
Cypress with the Laurel! Honor to the souls of the brave! 
Let us not dishonour their ashes by our weak, and uimvail- 




( 18 ) 


ing regrets, but rather emulate their noble conduct, and 
imitate those actions, which have entitled them to the 
matchless glory of dying in defence of their country! Thus 
to survive ourselves, and triumph over Time, to live for¬ 
ever, in the Register of Ages, and records of Fame! 


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